Broken
by Max Novella
Summary: Wyatt and Lucy must deal with the fallout of the episode, both good and bad. How will these events change the dynamics of their team? Will they still be able to take down Rittenhouse? Takes place after episode 2x03, Hollywoodland. Spoilers for season 2.
1. Chapter 1

Neither Timeless nor the characters belong to me. They are only to be used as my imagination sees fit. :)

This takes place between the end of 2x03 and the end of 2x04. Spoilers for season 2 so don't read if you don't want to know!

And as always...Please review and let me know what you think!

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 **BROKEN** \- Chapter 1

"What the hell were you thinking, Wyatt?" Agent Christopher's voice rang off the bunker walls, making Wyatt wince slightly. Not so much from the force in her words but more so from the guilt doubling him over now that he knew his team had jumped without him.

His team.

 _Lucy_.

They had jumped. Without him.

Because he wasn't here when they needed him.

The Mothership had blasted off back to Massachusetts in 1692, forcing the team to scramble on a mission to chase Rittenhouse through time again. And this time they didn't have their soldier, their _protector_ , along to make sure they came home in one piece.

They only had Garcia Flynn, and who knew what his agenda actually was. His stomach roiled and his heart beat erratically when the multitude of horrible things Flynn could do to his team...to _Lucy_...began to manifest in his mind.

"Have you heard anything I have said to you, Master Sargeant?" Christopher's normally controlled voice had risen slightly in pitch, a telling sign that her patience was now at its limit.

"Yeah," Wyatt acknowledged wearily.

"Your team is off on a mission with only Flynn to watch their backs because you suddenly decided to go AWOL," she continued. "I didn't even want to let Flynn back out of prison, much less let him go back in time!"

"I get it!" Wyatt had finally heard enough and stood suddenly, violently knocking the chair over behind him. "I fucked up, okay? I realize that already, you don't have to lecture me."

"Well what the hell was so important that you jeopardized your team's life to break out of here?" she queried.

Wyatt hung his head, overwhelmed. The brief surge of adrenaline that had surged only moments before dissipated as quickly as it had spiked. Wearily he retrieved his chair from the floor and plopped himself back into it, body language screaming defeat.

"Jessica," he said softly.

Christopher sighed. "Wyatt, I know that you..."

"No," he cut her off, finally meeting her gaze. "She's alive."

The agent stared at him. The fondness she had developed for Wyatt had been tested through the last several months, and he had been almost unmanageable when Lucy had been missing. Once he had retrieved her, though, he had settled in to life in the bunker and had almost even seemed...happy.

The angsty young man that had been desperately searching for his long-lost wife had now been replaced by a man with a quiet purpose, as well as a new partner in Lucy to share that purpose. And now he was regressing back to this again? She shook her head trying to grasp what he was telling her.

"Wyatt, why do you think she is alive now after everything you did to try to bring her back?"

He shook his head. "I don't know what happened. All I know is that after we got back from 1941 I got a text. From Jessica. Telling me to meet her at a bar downtown. Apparently, she works there."

Christopher stared at him, now slightly intrigued. "You saw her?"

Wyatt nodded. "Yeah, I did." He paused for a long moment then met Christopher's stare.

"It's her," he acknowledged. "I don't know how or why...but it's her," he finished softly, eyes threatening to spill over with unshed tears.

"How in the..." her words were cut off by the familiar gush and pop of air as the lifeboat re-emerged in the bunker. They looked at each other for only the briefest of seconds, silently acknowledging the conversation was now officially on pause, before he quickly stood and moved to the landing area.

Wyatt swallowed thickly as the hatch stayed eerily closed. Typically they threw it open as soon as possible to help somewhat with the nausea, but now it remained shut long after his teammates should have shown themselves.

Something was wrong.

He grabbed the portable stairs and had just moved them to the front of the lifeboat when the hatch finally opened. His relief at seeing Lucy's face dissipated quickly as he noticed she was leaning heavily on Flynn, and that he was practically supporting her whole weight within his arms as he helped her through the hatch.

"Lucy," he breathed, taking in her too-pale face, the angry red marks around her neck, and her useless left arm. Her left arm that he now saw had obvious blood streaks down the sleeve of her dress and a makeshift bandage that had been hastily tied around it.

He directed his attention to Flynn. "What happened?" he growled.

"Wyatt," Lucy warned in a tired voice, but he missed the barely controlled anger in her eyes and turned his own fiery gaze back to the man now supporting her as they descended the steps.

"Flynn?" Wyatt demanded. "What the hell did you do?"

Flynn opened his mouth to speak but Lucy beat him to the punch.

"Do you want to know what happened, Wyatt? Do you want to know what he did?" she raged, still sagging heavily against Flynn but rising slightly to meet Wyatt's challenging tone.

"He saved my life, that's what he did. He jumped between death and I when he had absolutely no reason to. If you have a problem with that, or God forbid go on some guilty martyr parade because you weren't there so be it. But DON'T YOU DARE blame him for this because I would not even be standing here right now if it weren't for him."

Wyatt drew back slightly from the force of her attack, overcome by the magnitude of hurt and betrayal in her eyes directed at him. Merely a second later her battered body must have felt no need to prove she could remain standing, for her eyes suddenly slammed shut and her legs buckled beneath her. He instinctively reached for her but Flynn was already in position, easily sweeping her up into his arms. He contemplated Wyatt carefully over Lucy's head, then seemed to right himself and moved with Agent Christopher's direction towards their makeshift infirmary.

Rufus had also descended the steps from the lifeboat and took in the stunned demeanor of his friend.

"Wyatt, what the hell happened?" he demanded. "Lucy nearly died and we didn't even know where you were."

Wyatt's jaw moved, trying to find the words to explain but remaining mute. Rufus took him aside out of earshot of Jiya and Connor.

"I didn't think you would let her out of your sight again, especially after what happened between you two back in 1941. What is going on with you, man?" He looked at Wyatt's lost face again as a sudden fearful realization began to take shape in the pit of his stomach.

"Wyatt. Please...please tell me you are not simply being an ass and having second thoughts. Because if you do that to Lucy I will kick your ass."

Wyatt's head snapped towards Rufus at that, surprised to see the normally timid man standing threateningly tall with clenched fists.

"I'm serious, Wyatt. Do. Not. Hurt. Her. She has been through enough of that already to last a lifetime."

"You don't think I know that?" Wyatt rasped, finally able to form a coherent sentence and getting chest to chest with Rufus. His eyes were red and watery, tears threatening to brim over. "Do you think I want to hurt her? Or ever make her feel like she has been abandoned? I'm the one that wants to protect her from all of that. I'm the one that..." he couldn't finish his thought, instead shaking his head and moving a few steps away.

Rufus relaxed, slightly mollified now that 'normal Wyatt' had finally made an appearance. "Dude, then what is going on with you?" He looked at his friend, observing for the first time his red-eyes, disheveled shirt, and utterly lost expression, and the pit began to form again in his stomach.

Wyatt's blue eyes guardedly met his as he ran his hand anxiously through his hair. "It's Jessica."

"Ummm...what about her?" His stomach pit was growing bigger by the second.

"She's alive, Rufus. I've seen her."

Rufus was speechless for a long moment, unable at first to comprehend what Wyatt had just confessed, then baffled by what that meant for his future with Lucy as well as the team.

"Well...damn."


	2. Chapter 2

**BROKEN** \- Chapter 2

Lucy wasn't surprised when the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was beautiful blue. Wyatt was perched in a chair next to the makeshift infirmary cot, her right hand nestled within both of his and his brilliant eyes fixated on hers.

"Hey," he said softly, a relieved smile breaking through the worry lines present only moments before. "How are you feeling?"

She closed her eyes again for a moment, assessing the various aches and pains assaulting her. "Definitely not 100%," she whispered, "but I'll live."

Wearily she tried to sit up and Wyatt jumped into action, putting another pillow behind her back and helping her ease into a sitting position before resuming his place at her side. Although she was haggard, pale faced and somber, Wyatt thought she had never looked more beautiful. He hung his head, wishing for the umpteenth time they could go back to 1941.

"I'm so sorry, Lucy," he managed in a small voice, squeezing her hand but not quite able to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you like I should've been."

Lucy studied his face, hidden now by the hand rubbing moisture from his eyes. His posture was one of defeat, and her earlier anger at him for wordlessly deserting them, deserting her, had begun to subside. If she was being honest with herself, the anger had only sprung from her own personal feelings of inadequacy. She was angry at herself for allowing Wyatt to finally break through her carefully constructed barriers, and she was angry at him for being mindless of the fact that he held her heart. And, if she was being completely honest, she knew he had held it for quite some time.

When he broke out of the bunker, suddenly and with no warning or communication, she was left to wonder if perhaps she was the cause. She trusted him implicitly and without reserve but was still unsure of the depth of his feelings for her. The way he had looked at her, kissed her, touched her in 1941 spoke volumes, but even now she felt that things may have changed for him somehow. Would that same spark still be in his eyes when he looked at her?

"Wyatt," she asked softly, afraid to dare hope his feelings were the same. "Look at me."

He raised his head, and the intensity of his anguish nearly overpowered her. She had seen that look only once before, when he was lost in the depth of his memories and had decided a suicide mission at the Alamo would be a good idea. Only the forcefulness of her emotions had drawn him back that time, and she still wasn't sure exactly how. To see that look on his face now churned fear through her heart, and it took everything in her to hide her reaction from him.

"What is it?" she questioned, noting how his thumb had found the tender red ligature marks around her wrists where she had been bound. He thought for a brief moment, eyeing the tender halo around her wrist and biting his lip before restoring his normal relaxed posture.

"Rufus told me. About your mission. About what happened," he shared. "I should have been there."

"Yes, you should've," she agreed, maybe a little too quickly. "Why weren't you? Where did you go?"

He moved back slightly, and although he retained his contact with her hand while his thumb drew circles across her knuckles, she could sense the discomfort and foreboding radiating from his strong frame.

"I got a text message," he began, eyes downcast yet again.

She shook her head. "I remember. One minute we were teasing each other about already living together and the next you looked like you had seen a ghost."

He smiled then, a small smile that didn't fully meet his eyes. "In a way I think maybe I did," he raised his eyes to contemplate her response before he continued. "It was from Jessica."

She stared at him for a long moment, not sure she had heard him correctly. "You mean...your Jessica? She's...alive?" the words felt distasteful on her lips. _Your. Jessica_.

"Yes. She's alive," he admitted. "I saw her."

For a moment Lucy thought perhaps the Earth's axis had tilted, for that would be the only way to explain the level of utter disorientation she was feeling. She retrieved her hand from his grasp and took several deep breaths, well aware that Wyatt was hesitantly gauging her response to his revelation.

Realistically, she knew that one day Jessica might come back. Despite Wyatt's failure when he tried to save her, she knew their subsequent travels were fickle at best when considering the future outcome. Which meant any time she had with Wyatt was completely borrowed, at the expense of his dead wife. Despite his declarations of being "open to possibilities", she knew in her heart she would always be his second choice. And for a short time before fate had just cruelly ripped it all away she had actually allowed herself to pretend it was real.

Tears threatened in the corners of her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She had already cried far too many times in front of him, she would refuse to let him see any more of her weakness. Houdini's voice echoed in her mind, the word "escape" now meaning something else entirely. She needed to get away from him so that he wouldn't be witness to her impending emotional breakdown.

Mustering her best caring and sympathetic smile, she met Wyatt's gaze head on. "That's great news, Wyatt. I know how badly you've wanted to get Jessica back. I'm happy for you. Truly, I am." She wasn't lying. She would do anything for this man, and if it made him happy she would gladly sacrifice her own happiness in order to give that to him.

Wyatt regarded her carefully. She was taking the news much better than he had, but her smile was definitely not genuine and he could see the tears in her eyes threatening to fall. He reached for her hand again but she recoiled from his touch as if he'd burned her.

"Lucy," he began, but she cut him off.

"I think I should probably get some rest now," she lied, fidgeting with her blanket and unable to look at him. "I'm feeling kind of dizzy."

He nodded, anxious to embrace her and reassure her it would be okay, but never able to deny her anything she asked for. "We will talk about this more later, okay?" he stated, his tone indicating it was not to be construed as a question.

Lucy nodded, dumbly, settling back into bed knowing sleep was nowhere near. He gently settled the blanket around her and couldn't resist tucking a lock of stray hair behind her ear.

"Lucy," he tried one more time, desperately feeling as though he couldn't end their conversation here. He had so much more to talk about with her, but rationally he also knew she did need rest even if it was a lie from her for some time alone.

"Goodnight, Wyatt," she said, in such a soft voice he almost didn't hear it.

He sighed such a heavy sigh that Lucy thought perhaps he was angry, but his voice was too low and broken when he simply responded with, "Goodnight. Ma'am."

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Jiya found Rufus at the main computer terminal, studiously working to piece together more links within Nicholas Keynes' "Plan for World Domination and Douchebaggery" as he liked to call it.

"Hey," she smiled sweetly as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Hey yourself," he smiled back, leaning in for a quick kiss. "How's Lucy doing?"

Jiya bit her lip. "Um...I'm not...sure. I went by the infirmary a few minutes ago to see how she was doing. And I'm not 100% certain...but...well," her voice trailed off.

Rufus stopped, turning to fully face his girlfriend. "What?" he asked, concerned at the hesitation in Jiya's voice.

"Well, it sounded like maybe she was crying," she finally admitted.

Rufus nodded his head knowingly. He had kept Lucy and Wyatt's secret, and had not yet even told Jiya what happened when they were in 1941. For some reason he felt like he needed to respect his friends' privacy, and that they would let everyone else know when they were ready. Now, given Wyatt's bombshell news earlier in the day, he was fairly certain he knew why Lucy was crying.

"Well, she's had a rough day. It was pretty sketchy there for a bit. Eventually it starts to get to you," he offered sincerely, hoping Jiya would accept his theory.

She nodded, deep in thought. "Yeah. I guess that makes sense." She kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Anything else happen of interest? I mean, aside from Lucy getting shot and almost hung."

Rufus dropped his head. "Yeah. I had to kill someone today."

Jiya stared at him. "What?"

He looked at her, confused by her aghast expression. "I had to kill someone today. It was one of the guys shooting at us and his dickhead buddy had already shot Lucy."

Her eyes were wide. "Did you use an old timey musket gun to shoot him?"

"Well, yeah. What's the matter?" She was alarming him now, as she took a step back from him and looked like a caged animal ready to bolt.

"Jiya, what the hell is going on? Is this about your visions?"

She nodded dumbly and Rufus sprung to his feet to face her. "What is it? You're worrying me here. And don't," he held up his finger to shush her as her mouth opened to speak. "Don't just tell me not to worry."

She took a deep breath. "Okay. I think that...I think my visions are actually visions of the future. Before you went back to Darlington, I saw your arm get burned that day we were working on the lifeboat when I kind of wigged out on you. While you guys were back in 1941 I saw you shoot an old man with the...um..."

"Old timey musket gun?" he finished for her.

"Yes," she breathed. "With the old timey musket gun."

"So..." he began, "are these visions just centered around me?"

Jiya nodded. "So far, the only one I've seen has been you."

"And the doctor said you were fine?" he reiterated.

"Better than fine. Whatever happened to me in the lifeboat actually healed my heart murmur too," she reminded him.

He blew out a breath. "Well, then I am going to try not to worry. And hover. Or worry while I hover."

She laughed. "You can sure try."

"But you have to promise me something," he closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"What's that?"

"When you have visions, or if you have other issues, please tell me. If you really are having visions of the future we need to know, and if you have other issues we...well, we need to know that too," he finished lamely.

Jiya smiled. "I promise."

He kissed her. "Thank you."

She gave him another peck on the lips, her eyes suggestively slanting towards him. "You know, I think you could stay with me tonight, if you wanted to."

"I definitely want to," he smiled at her and waggled his eyebrows, his thoughts again briefly turning to Jiya's roommate at the other end of the bunker. _And I highly doubt Wyatt will be good company anytime soon either._

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Flynn was lounging on the couch, taking a slow pull from a beer when Wyatt approached him in the common area, and his posture instantly became more guarded as he drew near. Wyatt had to purposefully force himself to slightly relax, lest he somehow start a fight without intending to.

"Flynn," he addressed the other man with what was hopefully a neutral tone.

"Wyatt," he acknowledged him, waving his hand toward another bottle sitting unopened on the side table. "Why don't you join me."

Skepticism crept over Wyatt's face and he attempted to push it down for the sake of his intended visit, but Flynn was far too observant.

"For God's sake, man, I'm not going to poison you or anything. Sit and have a beer. It's one of the few things that isn't utterly depressing in this cave."

Wyatt sighed, and reached for the beer as he sat across from Flynn in the chair.

"You don't like me much, do you?" Flynn questioned.

"Nope. Not at all. And I trust you even less than I like you," he replied, a small smirk on his face.

Garcia held up his beer bottle as if he were offering a toast. "Touche."

Wyatt's countenance suddenly became much more serious. "But I do owe you." At the other man's questioning expression Wyatt took a long pull from his bottle and continued. "For today. For what you did for Lucy. And Rufus," he quickly added. He hesitated, the words that he needed to say almost physically causing pain as he said them.

"Thank you, Flynn. For having my team's backs."

Flynn appraised him carefully, noting Wyatt's downcast eyes and the way he was playing with his ring finger. He also hadn't missed the way Wyatt's gaze continually drifted towards the infirmary where Lucy was currently sleeping. He was far too observant and shrewd to miss the obvious clues and quickly managed to piece the puzzle together.

"She's back, isn't she?"

Wyatt looked at him as if he'd been stung. "What are you talking about?"

"Your wife. Jessica? Wasn't that her name?"

He looked at Flynn, speechless. "How the hell could you possibly know that?"

"Oh, I know a lot more than you think I do, Wyatt. Remember, I had Lucy's journal for quite some time."

Wyatt's stomach began to churn, the implications of what he was saying beginning to finally make sense. "What does Lucy's journal have to do with this?"

Flynn snorted. "Please don't tell me you are so thickheaded as to think that this is just some miraculous cosmic karma being corrected."

Wyatt's eyes darted back and forth, his mind desperately trying to makes sense of what Flynn was telling him.

"Oh my. That's exactly what you thought, wasn't it?" He paused, only for a moment.

"You really thought that your dead wife had returned from the grave because of something that happened seventy-seven years ago? While you and Lucy were screwing in Los Angeles?"

Wyatt stood up and slammed the bottle down with enough force to cause foam to crest over the lip. "You shut your damn mouth. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, but I do, Wyatt," Flynn rose to a standing position as well. "I do know what I'm talking about. Because you promised to do your job. You promised to protect her. And the first time Rittenhouse dangles a distraction in front of your face you abandon her."

Wyatt's stricken face gave him momentary pause, but he knew he had to bring his point home. "You left her. You left your entire team to chase after your wife when you knew damn well the only way she could possibly be alive is through Rittenhouse manipulation."

Another long pause. "I know how all of this ends, Wyatt. And it does not go well for Lucy."

His head snapped up at that, the intensity of Flynn's words chilling him to the bone. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I am here to pick up your slack. She is important to both of us for very different reasons, but I am here to help protect her."

Wyatt pushed his way over to Flynn and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pressing the other man back into the couch. "You are going to tell me right now what the hell happens to Lucy!"

"No, I'm not," he replied calmly.

"Why the hell not?" he raged.

"Because you have a fucking time machine and we can change it!" Flynn yelled back. "No one's future is set. But you need to get your head out of your ass and get back in the game. Because it is going to take both of us working together to take down Rittenhouse and keep Lucy safe."

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	3. Chapter 3

**BROKEN** \- Chapter 3

Wyatt was well aware that he had used up the last little bit of goodwill remaining between himself and Agent Christopher. The mere fact that he actually asked for permission to leave the bunker this time may have helped, but her stern warning had held the same forcefulness she had always carried.

" _Wyatt," she had cautioned in a low voice, eyes full of barely concealed disapproval as they walked to the heavy exit door. "You go get your answers and get back here. But be careful," she had warned, "I don't for one second think your wife's reappearance is simply a coincidence."_

" _Neither do I," he had agreed, palming his burner phone from his jeans pocket and flipping it to her through the air. At her questioning look he had simply stated, "If things go bad I don't want anything out there that can be used to find this place." She gave him a small nod of understanding, and possibly even approval, as she unlocked the door and pulled it back._

" _When Lucy wakes up in the morning, please tell her I will be back as soon as I can," he asked quickly, his eyes pleading with Christopher to feel as confident about his return as he did._

 _She nodded. "Good luck, Master Sergeant."_

That had been two and a half hours ago. Now, at 7:30 in the morning, he was casually perched at a café table outside a local coffee shop, slowly sipping the best latte he had consumed in months and looking forward to devouring the large blueberry scone sitting beside it. He held back a smile as he thought of all the various pastries in the display case, mostly because he was imagining his favorite historian pressing her nose against the glass trying to make a decision. Lucy loved homemade pastries and was hard pressed to pick a favorite, but if his scone was half as good as it looked he knew he would have to take one back to the bunker for her.

His eyes scanned up and down the narrow street for the umpteenth time since he sat down. Nothing was amiss thus far, but he knew while he was out and about he had to remain vigilant. Rittenhouse would like nothing more than to catch him off guard. Best case scenario they would eliminate him and he would simply cease to exist. Worst case scenario they would somehow tail him back to the bunker and attack his whole team.

He checked his watch again, and not a minute later was met with the sight he had been waiting for. A young woman had parked her car half a block up the street and was locking it with her key fob as she crossed towards the coffee shop. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a ballcap perched atop her head, but Wyatt knew her face like he knew his own.

 _Jessica_.

His breath hitched, and for a moment he couldn't breathe. It still seemed so unreal to him, that the woman he had been trying to save all through time was now here right in front of him alive and well. She must have felt the power of his thoughts, for she looked up right as she reached the store and met his eyes instantly. She pointed, indicating she was going to order, and he gave a small wave.

Within minutes she had joined him at his table, a tall white cup in her hand as she sat.

"Good morning," she began. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you again so soon after you ran out of the bar last night."

"Sorry about that," he answered automatically, his eyes absorbing every movement she made. Her lips wrapped around the coffee cup as she took a long drink, and she gave a soft smile after noticing his intense gaze.

"Geez, Wyatt, you act like you haven't seen me in months," she commented with another smile.

"Years, actually." Her wary gaze brought him back to reality quickly and he mentally kicked himself for letting that slip. He had no idea what kind of relationship they had in this timeline, but if she wasn't what she seemed he sure didn't need to tip his hand this early.

Jessica appraised him through guarded eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he answered a bit too quickly. "Yes. I am great. How are you?"

She laughed, a sound that broke his heart all over again and repaired it at the same time. "Wyatt, what is going on with you? I text you to come by the bar and sign papers, you show up and act like you've seen a ghost, talking about how I died or something. Then you take off with some lame excuse and text me at two in the morning to meet for 8am coffee. This is weird, even for you," she finished, taking another drink of her coffee as she waited for his response.

"I'm sorry," he repeated again, trying his best to turn on his charm smile. "I got a work call right as I got to the bar and had to leave right away."

Jessica's eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly. "Work, huh?"

He nodded, hoping it was a plausible explanation for his seemingly erratic behavior.

"So what amazing time period did you travel to last night then?" she asked innocently.

He stared at her, desperately attempting to keep his mouth from falling open in shock. It took several seconds before he was able to right himself and lean a bit further towards her over the table. "What did you just say?" he whispered lowly.

"Wyatt," she leaned further over the small table as well, until their faces were in each other's airspace. "It's no surprise. I know all about what you've been doing with Mason Industries. Or rather, what you WERE doing with Mason before the whole place was turned into a giant fireball."

She paused for a long moment, looking deep into his eyes before she gathered herself to continue. "More importantly, I know about Rittenhouse. And I am just what you need to destroy them for good."

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